THE BLACKLIST Written by Jon Bokenkamp December 28, 2012
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THE BLACKLIST Written by Jon Bokenkamp December 28, 2012 TEASER We hear RESTLESS VOICES. Screaming children. The swell of a hundred fighting languages tells us we’re stuck in line at... INT. U.S. CUSTOMS - DAY The place is packed. Smells like travel. Among this dizzy mob, one very composed American commands our attention. He approaches the window and opens his passport -- -- Meet RAYMOND “RED” REDDINGTON (55). Dignified. Worldly. He wears a perfectly tailored suit and carries himself with a sense of purpose. CUSTOMS AGENT Where you been, sir? RED Singapore. Business. CUSTOMS AGENT And where we headed? RED Home. Red smiles. His confidence is magnetic. As the agent STAMPS his passport, Mel Torme’s driving “Comin’ Home Baby” sends us hurtling through: EXT. WASHINGTON, D.C. - DAY We dance through the capitol city. The National Mall. The Lincoln Memorial. The pace is energetic and bright as -- -- Red is chauffeured through the city by A MAN IN A GREY FLANNEL SUIT. Passing monuments reflect in the glass of his limo as Red rolls down the window, drinks in his hometown. ON PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE... Red steps from the car. Finds himself standing in the shadow of a daunting concrete structure. He looks up, delighted to see the words etched in the facade: J. Edgar Hoover Building. INSIDE F.B.I. HEADQUARTERS... Red strides through the lobby with purpose. He’s been here before. Belongs here. Finds his way to a FEMALE GUARD at the security desk. RED Good afternoon. I’m here to see Assistant Director Harold Cooper. 2. GUARD Do you have an appointment? RED Tell him it’s Raymond Reddington. The Guard scowls and calls upstairs. Red waits. Takes in the details around him; the bulletproof glass, the American flag, the display of the “Ten Most Wanted” on the lobby wall. Red takes off his jacket, folds it neatly, and places it on the ground next to his briefcase. The Female Guard listens to the voice on the other end of the line, watching Red as -- -- he lowers himself to his knees over the F.B.I. seal in the terrazzo floor. A passing AGENT sees this. Looks uneasy. The poor Guard on the phone can hardly comprehend what she’s hearing. She follows Red’s eyes. Sees what Red sees. He’s staring at a picture of HIS OWN FACE among... THE TEN MOST WANTED. Red CLASPS HIS HANDS behind his head. Closes his eyes. The Guard calls for backup, but before she can muster the words -- -- ALARMS SOUND. METAL CURTAINS drop over the windows. The entire F.B.I. goes into ‘LOCKDOWN’ as F.B.I. POLICE swarm Red, WEAPONS drawn and SCREAMING into their radios. But Red’s calm. Proud perhaps. As he’s thrown to the ground his expression tells us this is a day Red has anticipated for years. We DRIFT UP, over the chaos, past the American flag. The F.B.I.’s NUMBER FOUR MOST WANTED has just surrendered. INT. FT. MEADE / N.S.A. - SAME A winded STAFFER rushes into a packed boardroom. Pulls aside ASSISTANT DIRECTOR OF COUNTERTERRORISM, HAROLD COOPER (52). He’s worn by life. A natural cynic. The Staffer whispers. COOPER (thunderstruck) How is that even possible?! INT. ROOFTOP / F.B.I. HEADQUARTERS - SAME A Sikorsky S-76 lands and delivers Cooper who is met by AGENT DONALD RESSLER (42), square-jawed and seasoned. This job is his life. They duck the rotors, shouting over the chopper -- 3. RESSLER Ressler. Washington Field office. I’m the case agent on Reddington. COOPER When did this happen? RESSLER Under an hour ago. COOPER We confirm it’s actually him? RESSLER It’s him alright. Prints match. Tattoos. He even volunteered classified details about our Brussels mission in ‘08. COOPER What happened in Brussels? RESSLER Sir? We tried to kill him, sir. INT. SECURITY NEST / F.B.I. - SAME F.B.I. TECHs sit behind glowing control panels. Monitors cover the walls. The screens depict various angles of Red chained to the floor. Cooper nears a monitor, captivated. COOPER Christ, it really is him. He turns to the glass and approaches Ressler. They watch Red like a fish in a jar. Even in captivity, Red carries himself with unquestionable presence. RESSLER Came in with a briefcase containing every alias he’s ever used. Most of ‘em we’ve never heard of. COOPER What’s he want? RESSLER Don’t know. Won’t talk. The guy’s a goddamned stone. Cooper watches Red, unsettled, as we hear -- RESSLER (O.S.) Raymond “Red” Reddington grew up the son of an army brat... 4. INT. WAR ROOM - SAME Ressler briefs a packed room of agents, analysts and legal staffers. CLASSIFIED IMAGES fill giant monitors overhead. RESSLER ...he attended West Point. Top of his class. By thirty he was an intelligence officer in the Army. Made Captain. Military Liaison Officer to the N.S.A. It’s a life in photos, the American Dream. RESSLER Then, in 1990, Reddington’s headed home to see his wife and daughter for Christmas. He never arrived. We see CRIME SCENE PHOTO of a snow covered hatchback on a desolate mountain road. RESSLER His vehicle was discovered along a stretch of highway thirty-three in the Allegheny Mountains. Christmas gifts for his wife and kid in the back of the car. We see snapshots of SEARCH PARTIES and NEWSPAPER HEADLINES. RESSLER There were searches. Candle light vigils. No answers. This guy up and disappeared from the face of the earth... The screens go dark, then reignite with a single surveillance photo of a GHOSTLY IMAGE; a bearded shadow of a man. RESSLER ...until four years later when U.S. military secrets started turning up in South Asia. The leak was traced to Reddington. Turns out he was trading military strategies with New Delhi; brokering arms deals for the North Koreans. Four years after going AWOL, this decorated soldier re-emerges as an enigma. We’re struck with a barrage of CLASSIFIED PHOTOS. Red in secret meetings and exotic countries. The birth of a legend. 5. RESSLER His military background would lead you to believe he’s some sort of spy, but he’s not. This guy’s an equal opportunity offender; a “facilitator” of sorts who’s built an enterprise brokering deals for fellow criminals. We know he’s orchestrated the assassinations of federal inmates, laundered money for the mob, and bought judges only to have them killed. Last year, he personally negotiated a month long cease-fire between the la Familia drug cartel and the Calderon government. He has no country. No political agenda. Best we can tell Reddington’s only allegiance is to the highest bidder. AGENT They call him something. In the papers. RESSLER The Concierge of Crime. We linger on an eerie photo of Red. Eyes locked on us. INT. SECURITY NEST - DAY Ressler and Cooper are little more than silhouettes looking through the window, watching Red in his interrogation cell. COOPER Call Lab Services. Have them fit him with a VeriChip RFID tag. RESSLER You think he’s going somewhere? COOPER Not on my watch. INT. INTERROGATION CELL - DAY Red watches ARMED AGENTS escort a DOCTOR into his cell. The Doctor loads a small CHIP, the size of a grain of rice, into a digital syringe. Injects the device into Red’s shoulder. IN THE SECURITY NEST... A SCANNER lights up. Beeps twice. 6. TECH He’s on-line. As Red’s cell is vacated, the agents discuss what’s next. Red rubs his shoulder. Turns to a SECURITY CAMERA -- RED (on the monitor) It appears someone with the authority to make decisions has arrived. Good to see you again, Agent Cooper. -- the control room realizes Red is speaking to them through the security monitors. Cooper turns. The room falls silent. RED We need to move quickly and I know you have many questions, so let’s begin with the most important one: why I’m here. We INTERCUT between the agents and Red, who speaks through the camera like some Orwellian tyrant. Red stands. RED I’m going to help you capture a criminal you don’t know exists. RESSLER What’s he talking about? COOPER Turn it up. RED Of course, you’re familiar with his crimes. Counterintelligence is monitoring his criminal enterprise through the Patriot Act, the Hague wants him for war crimes, CIA calls him the Serbian Ghost. (flat) I can tell you his real name is Ranko Zamani. You want him. I want him. Let’s say that for the moment our interests are aligned. Cooper can’t believe what he’s hearing -- COOPER Feed this through to the Assistant A.G. of Counterterrorism. 7. RESSLER Get Main Justice on the phone. With a few keystrokes, an ANALYST brings up the dossier of RANKO ZAMANI. Classified details unfold on the monitors. ANALYST (off his computer) ...Ranko Sinisa Zamani. Serbian National. Educated in the U.S. Key player in the Yugoslav wars... Zamani’s a gaunt little man. Haunting eyes. He wears a rash of CHEMICAL BURNS on his neck and jaw. Red continues to fill in details about Zamani as -- -- an ANALYST beckons Cooper and shows him a classified file on his monitor. Cooper turns. Walks directly into... RED’S INTERROGATION CELL. RED Agent Cooper, you’re not trained in interrogation. COOPER I don’t know what you think is gonna happen here, but this -- RED I’m giving you Zamani. COOPER Ranko Zamani died twelve years ago. He’s a non-existent threat. RED And you believe that? COOPER It’s a fact.